Seeing Your Face Again Page 2

  “You did well through all of that,” Debbie said. “I don’t think I would have kept faith in Joe like you did.”

  “That’s just because you didn’t know Joe very well,” Verna said. “The man has a heart of gold. Steady and solid like a rock. I couldn’t have wished for a better man—not in a hundred years of living. Still, the situation did hurt deeply. But Da Hah is healing us.”

  Debbie sat in silence, drinking her hot chocolate. Her earlier thoughts crept back. There was nothing she could do about Alvin’s hesitation. In her Englisha world she had an option. There, she could ask a man out on a date, though she’d never done that. Here in the Amish world it wasn’t even a dreamed-of possibility. She would have to practice patience and endurance like Verna had last year. Debbie would choose to believe that in the end Alvin would come around.

  Verna tapped her arm, and Debbie glanced up to see her friend regarding her with raised eyebrows. “What were you thinking, Debbie? Your mind is somewhere else.”

  “Alvin…” Debbie said. Verna was one of the few people she’d unburdened her heart to on the subject of her interest.

  Verna’s brow wrinkled. “He still hasn’t asked you home, then?”

  “No, and I’m beginning to think he won’t.”

  “You must keep up your faith.” Verna smiled. “Look at what Joe and I went through!”

  “I know. You shame me,” Debbie said. “You were so patient, and here I go again complaining.”

  Verna shook her head. “Don’t look at it that way. No situations are exactly that same. I was just trying to encourage you.”

  “Thanks,” Debbie whispered.

  Verna face lit up. “Should I have Joe say something to Alvin? Perhaps that would help.”

  “No!” Even Debbie heard the alarm in her voice. “You mustn’t do that. It needs to come from Alvin…but thanks for the offer.” She quickly changed the subject, and the two chatted on for another thirty minutes before Debbie got to her feet. “Well, it’s time for me to go. Supper is probably about ready.”

  “You must come over more often!” Verna said, following her to the door. “I miss our talks.”

  Debbie gave Verna a quick hug before she made her way down the narrow path to her car. After getting in and starting it up, Debbie turned the car around. Verna gave her a wave as she crept past. She is a very dear friend, Debbie thought. One she hoped she’d never lose.

  Two

  Fifteen minutes after she left Verna and Joe’s place, Debbie slowed for Bishop Beiler’s driveway. The Beiler home lay a few miles off Route 522. Here Emery, the youngest son still at home, had cleared a double lane of snow. Debbie slowed the car even more when she caught sight of Emery on the tractor, now backing the makeshift plow into the overhang behind the barn. He’d cleared a nice little spot for her car, the snow pushed into a heap against the fence. She would have to make a special effort to thank him. Debbie inched her vehicle into the spot between the drifts.

  Emery appeared around the corner of the barn as she got out. He had his winter stocking cap pulled down tightly over his ears. “Like my nice lane?”

  “Yah, thank you!” Debbie said with a warm smile. “Your lane is much nicer than Joe’s.”

  Emery raised his eyebrows. “You stopped in at Verna’s place?”

  “Just to say a quick howdy. I don’t get over there much with the way the winter weather is.”

  “How are things going for the young love birds?” Emery asked and then grinned.

  “Wishing you were in their shoes?” Debbie teased.

  Emery laughed. “I’m a little young yet. And where would I find a girl?”

  “Now, Emery!” she scolded. “You’re 20, and you know there are dozens of Amish young women lined up waiting for a word from you.”

  He laughed again. “I’m afraid you overestimate my Romeo powers. Isn’t that what the Englisha call it?”

  “Something like that,” she said, humoring him.

  “Plus I have to get all my sisters married off before I take the farm over. I wouldn’t want to push anyone out into the cold.”

  “That’s kind of you,” Debbie said as she gathered her things together.

  Emery wasn’t through with his teasing. “I don’t think you’ll be lasting around here much longer. Not with the way Paul Wagler’s carrying on.”

  Debbie stood upright so fast her head spun. “I’m not interested in Paul, Emery!”

  Emery cleared his throat. “I think you’re showing the very spunk Paul finds so attractive. What’s wrong with him, anyway?”

  Your sister’s in love with him for one thing, Debbie thought, but she didn’t say it aloud. Ida didn’t want her secret spilled to the world. And Emery probably knew anyway and was just as convinced the case was hopeless as she did.

  “See?” he teased. “You’re speechless. There’s not one gut reason Paul Wagler shouldn’t be arriving here every Sunday evening for sweet visits with you.”

  “Please.” Debbie turned up her nose in exaggerated disdain. “That man is barking up the wrong tree. Plus, it sounds as if you’re only trying to get me married off so you can take over the farm. That’s quite a biased opinion in my book.”

  Emery didn’t answer as he headed toward the barn with a pleased look on his face. He’d said what he wished to say, and he would now wait for his words to bear fruit.

  Debbie knew Emery’s push wouldn’t help, but no one seemed persuaded of that except her. And if Emery teased her so openly about Paul’s constant attention, no doubt there were plenty of others from the community who also had noticed. But what could she do? If she asked Ida for advice, she’d sigh with her meek spirit and advise resignation to Da Hah’s will. But surely the Lord didn’t want her married to Paul!

  Debbie made her careful way up the shoveled walkway and entered the house without knocking on the door. This had been, after all, her home for many months now. It had fast become the only life she knew, even with her Englisha car still parked out beside the barn. Bishop Beiler had tolerated the vehicle so far, especially since she’d proven so helpful with Verna and Joe’s troubles last year. Besides, she wasn’t Amish…yet.

  The bishop bore a great burden for his family’s welfare. Not just as bishop, but as husband and father. He wanted his wife happy and for all of his children to remain in the faith. This was an issue that had weighed heavy on his shoulders the last few years. Since her teenage years, the bishop’s youngest daughter, Lois, had spoken of the time when she would leave the faith for the Englisha world. Things had become serious enough that the bishop had welcomed Debbie into his home in hopes of influencing Lois about the dangers of the world. He’d never stated that in so many words, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. And so far it had worked.

  Debbie’s open admiration for all things Amish and her willingness to forsake so many things that Lois admired—her college education, her Englisha home, her Englisha boyfriend—had made an impression on Lois. Debbie thought it was almost like Lois and she had been switched at birth. In so many ways, Lois was the exact image of the daughter Debbie’s mother had wished for, and Debbie was the daughter Bishop Beiler longed to see in Lois. It seemed like sometimes things got all turned around and no one could explain why.

  Debbie pushed her thoughts away to peek into the kitchen. Lois and her mom, Saloma, were rushing about, surrounded by the aftermath of their afternoon’s cooking. Several steaming bowls of food were on the stove, and dirty dishes were stacked everywhere.

  “Well, look who’s home!” Saloma said as she glanced up to give Debbie a kind look.

  “I’ll run right up and change so I can help,” Debbie said. She dashed for the stair door.

  Lois gave her a grateful look. There was no one in the Beiler family who could cook like Lois, but cleanup wasn’t high on her priority list.

  Debbie entered Verna’s old room and paused long enough to stash her purse in the dresser. Moments later she was back downstairs drying dishes for Lois.

  “
How did your day go?” Saloma asked.

  “Okay. Nothing unusual,” Debbie told her. “I stopped in at Verna’s on the way home though. That’s why I’m a little late.”

  Saloma’s face brightened. “That was nice of you. I’m sure Verna appreciated it. How is she doing?”

  “She looks all snugly in that new home of hers,” Debbie said as she turned a dish over in her hands. “I think Joe and Verna are very happy together.”

  Saloma nodded but a sigh escaped her lips. “I guess that’s the first one married, which we can be thankful for.”

  Lois gave her mother a quick glance but didn’t say anything.

  It went without saying that Saloma longed for a decent matchup for her other two daughters. If it didn’t happen, Ida would survive as an old maid in the community. But Lois was another matter. With her desire for the Englisha world, there was little chance Lois would stay in the community if she were passed over by the unmarried Amish men.

  “You don’t have to be sighing like that Mamm,” Lois spoke up. “Joe’s cousin Roy has been eyeing me for a while already. I’m not without my chances.”

  Saloma looked like she was about to drop the dish of mashed potatoes she was carrying. “Oh, Lois! Please keep your mind and heart open. Don’t be doing anything foolish like turning down the man…if you get a chance. You know your words haven’t been the best in past years. Many in the community have heard your sighings for the Englisha world. Few of our men wish for such a frau to stand by their side.”

  “Mamm, stop it!” Lois said. “What if I don’t like the man?”

  “Love can perhaps grow in your heart…if you get to know him better.” Saloma sounded a little desperate.

  Lois gave a little laugh. “And what is Daett going to say?”

  Saloma was silent for a moment. Bishop Beiler was well known for his strict standards when it came to any man who wished to date one of his daughters. In the past, this reputation of the bishop’s had as much to do with Lois’s lack of romantic offers as her Englisha sentiments. “I will speak with Daett on the matter,” Saloma said. She pressed her lips firmly together.

  Debbie looked away. The truth was that the bishop wasn’t as strict as he used to be. At least when it came to Lois and her prospects. At this point Lois could probably bring home the wildest man in the community and get him past Bishop Beiler’s inspection. Such was the urgency with which both the bishop and Saloma wanted their youngest daughter safely married into the faith.

  For her part, Lois gave a little snort. “Save your efforts, Mamm. Until Roy asks me home, I wouldn’t want word to leak out how desperate we all are.” Lois’s sarcasm was thick, but Saloma didn’t seem to pick up the signal.

  “That not a nice thing to say, Lois,” Saloma scolded. “At your age everyone is already wondering…” Saloma stopped. She apparently thought better of what she was about to say.

  Lois was now lost in her own world and didn’t notice. Her voice was dreamy. “Now if I had Debbie’s chances, how happy I’d be! I’d be floating along on the arms of handsome Englisha boys like Debbie used to do in her college days. She probably had more offers than she could handle.”

  Debbie laughed. “You exaggerate, Lois. And I turned down those I had. It’s not all that great out there.”

  “See, Lois?” Saloma clutched her daughter’s arm. “Listen to the voice of experience.”

  Lois gave Debbie a quick glance. “Would you at least set me up with an Englisha boy—for just one date? I’d like to see for myself if I’d like it or not.”

  Saloma’s face paled. “You must put such awful thoughts far from you, Lois! They aren’t right in the sight of Da Hah.”

  “Oh well, just saying,” Lois mumbled. “At least that way I’d know for sure.”

  Debbie spoke up quickly. “Amish men are every bit as handsome and charming as Englisha men, Lois. Plus the Amish know how to work hard. And they provide for their families and don’t run off at the drop of the hat. Think about that. There are a lot of divorces out in the Englisha world.”

  “But our men aren’t dashing, and exciting, and edgy, and thrilling,” Lois said, her face glowing. “And they don’t drive fast cars.”

  Saloma moaned.

  Debbie glanced at her, but Saloma appeared unable to speak at the moment. Debbie spoke up. “Lois, you can have Paul Wagler if you want. He’s dashing.”

  Lois giggled. “And break Ida’s heart? The poor girl. Nee. Plus I don’t like him.”

  “Then you might not like what’s out there in the Englisha world either. In some ways Paul is like an Englisha man.”

  Lois gave a little snort again. “I like the type, just not Paul. Though I’d let him bring me home just for the experience. And what do you know about Amish men anyway? What with your fixation on Alvin Knepp. His family is the farming joke of the community. That would be quite a come down from the life you’re used to, you know.”

  “Maybe I look at the heart,” Debbie protested. “That’s what Verna did, and she turned out pretty happy.”

  Lois laughed. “I think you’re mixed up, Debbie.”

  Saloma sat down on a kitchen chair, apparently at the end of her strength as she listened to such plain talk. She managed to whisper. “I have never heard such twisted thinking in my life, Lois.”

  Lois shrugged. “I’m just talking, Mamm.”

  Saloma wiped her brow. Moments later she took a deep breath and got up. She rushed about to set the table.

  The outside washroom door slammed, and Ida stuck her head through the kitchen doorway. “Hi,” she chirped.

  “Hi to you,” Debbie greeted Ida. Even though her face wasn’t the prettiest in the community, Ida had such a sweet spirit. Why some boy couldn’t see that, Debbie didn’t know. Instead they’d passed up Ida all these years.

  “Supper’s about ready,” Saloma said as she put the last of the food on the table. “I suppose the men aren’t far behind.”

  “You still have a few minutes,” Ida offered before she closed the door. Sounds of water could be heard splashing in the washroom as she washed up.

  Debbie stacked the last of the mixing bowls on the lower counters. Ida soon dashed past moments before the sound of the men washing up could be heard. When Ida reappeared from upstairs in a clean dress, Saloma motioned for her to join them at the table. The women were waiting when Adam and Emery walked in. The food steamed on the table.

  Three

  When the prayer was finished some minutes later, the spoken words directed toward heaven had produced a momentary hush around the supper table. The silence didn’t last long though. Bishop Beiler spoke up. “It looks like another bad storm is moving in tonight.”

  “Well, Daett, I’ve got something that will help us forget this gloomy weather and all our troubles!” Lois said. “But you’ll have to wait until you’ve cleaned your plate.”

  The bishop’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll clean my plate all right, but judging from what I smell coming from the oven, I’d better not take seconds.”

  “What is it?” Emery asked. “Cobbler? Apple Brown Betty?”

  “Never you mind!” Lois said. “Just clean your plate.”

  Everyone laughed and seemed to eat a little faster than usual. Finally, Lois jumped to her feet to bring her prize accomplishment of the day from the oven. She slid the dish on the table, where it lay in all its delicious glory. “We have cherry pie tonight!”

  Debbie smiled at Lois’s antics, but they weren’t without justification. Lois was the household’s best cook. Her pie crusts were so moist and crumbly they melted in your mouth.

  “There’s no one like my Lois for cherry pie.” Bishop Beiler beamed. “What will I do when Mamm and I are in our dawdy haus, and Lois is running her own household of bopplis. Will we still have your pies to make us fat and happy?”

  “Daett!” Lois chided. “I don’t even have a man bringing me home yet! And you know I’ll always be baking pies for you.”

  Saloma spoke up. “Daett�
��s way too spoiled already. My pies will be just fine in our old age.”

  Bishop Beiler laughed, obviously enjoying the easy banter. He looked over at Lois. “Didn’t I see Joe’s cousin Roy making eyes at you the other Sunday, Lois? I hope you’re seeing what I’m seeing.”

  “Daett…” Lois’s face was flushed now.

  “I want to let you know that Roy’s a decent man. I have no objections about him.”

  Lois took a slice of cherry pie and put it on her plate before she looked at her father. “What’s changing your tune, Daett? You used to chase most men off when they came anywhere close to your daughters. Has it been Verna’s happy marriage or is there something else?”

  The bishop thought for a moment before he answered. “Well, I’m always interested in my daughters’ boyfriends, but perhaps Verna and Joe have mellowed me a bit.”

  Lois didn’t look that convinced.

  Ida quickly changed the subject. “There’s a young folks gathering at the Wagler place this week. They might even have an indoor volleyball game in their barn.”

  Saloma didn’t waste any time before speaking up. “I think that will be just the thing for these winter blahs. Do you think the Wagler barn will be large enough?”

  “Of course the Waglers have room,” Lois said. “They’re the Waglers.”

  “The Waglers are decent and upstanding members of the community,” Bishop Beiler said, having caught Lois’s sarcastic tone.

  Lois went on. “Speaking of upstanding church members, why has Deacon Mast been hanging around our place lately? Seems like I saw him here yesterday and today.”

  “Lois!” Saloma’s voice had a warning in it. “You know not to ask questions about church work. The bishop’s daughters will be told what they need to know just like the rest of the community.”